Short Griping Poems

A grump and a grouse ran around town.
Griping and groaning, whining around.
So full of guff
We’d had enough.
Sent them to a circus to be happy clowns....

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Greasy grimy gritty grievances
grabbed grandma’s gleamingly glitzy glasses
Giving griping grousing grandchildren gruesome 
glimpses of Grandma’s gleaming glitzy glasses....

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Negative People
Written: by Miracle Man
12/17/2021

Nay-sayers and cranks populate my life,
they appear happiest when causing strife.
Griping and whining seems to be their dish,
and skipping my plate has become my wish.
...

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On my knees
I look to the sky
Make my prayer, on wings of good-bye
Feeling lost
Griping life so tight….
I’m blessed by you
Your words a gift
Courage, it fills my heart

Surrounded by strength
Your arms outstretched
To lift me up……..
Love and light, bright and strong
We will walk together
I stand...

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She was much prettier in death
than any day she had been alive
her mouth softly closed
eyes in gentle repose

no yelling
no grouching
no griping
no complaining

I saw her husband’s genuine smile
For the first time ever
at her funeral luncheon, 
And I had lived next door to them for thirty-six years....

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It’s braw y’are its braw a’reet
Wi’ brilly natchers at yer feet
Tis one fer they an’ one fer me
T’ set tha brilly natchers free
So dinna mumble dinna fret
Tha has nae seen yon natchers yet
But when they come as come they will
Be sure t’stand rock solid still
Nae griping an’ nae felly clure
Wie brilly natchers at yer door...

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It is not often,
I get upset,
but lately,
some of the people
I have met.
I wonder to myself,
how do they get by,
talking about people,
griping,
telling lies.
I find them offensive,
I distant myself,
and sometimes wonder,
why,
don't they ask for help.
Negative people,
stay away from me,
I will not entertain you,
leave....

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This land of entitlement, 
entertainment and enterprise 
lost burnt broken...despised 
skeletal structures reaching 
griping, clutching, scraping the infernal sky.
arcane factories sit on horizons 
haunt like houses of Man 
burning, cursing the American wasteland.
Napalm fields, 
embers of pyres that rage, 
race across 
This holocaustic ape....

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I love -- though there be imperfections…
For I am not quite perfected yet; 
Still I am striving to be… as sweet confections
Without griping or regret
Loving unconditionally
--Yes--
Loving unconditionally
Without griping or regret
Still I am striving to be … as sweet confections
For I am not quite perfected yet;
I love-- though there be imperfections…...

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Manual labor, sweating, straining, backs sore
Obnoxious and stubborn behaviors, family upset
Violent screaming, threats, tears, 
Irritability, tiredness, insomnia
Nasty moods and attitudes
Grumping, griping, grunting, gripping,
Disappointment, disillusionment, despair, 
Anger that we left our family and our real home
Yearning to believe things will be better here...

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Jane was tiny, but then began growing
till her bosom most amply was showing.
Now she’s griping no more
as she goes out her door
on fun dates with her cups overflowing!

Feb. 21, 2022
For Tania Kitchin's A New Bawdy Or Humorous Limerick Poetry Contest
42 syllables total as checked by Howmanysyllables.com:
Lines 1,2 and 3: 10 syllables each
Lines 4 and 5: 6 syllables each...

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affable aardvarks amused arbitrators
brash brazen baboons enjoyed escalators
careless careworn camels circled sissy
dark dusky deputies danced until dizzy
eccentric entertaining elephants enthusiastically embrace
faithful fashionable forest foxes follow a feverish face
gloriously gleeful gorillas gallantly grab a griping grouse
happily, hopeful, they can share with hippos, a house...

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Loathing in a sea of sorrow
for that of which is beyond vast
Thinking about the time going bye
Went off the griping tracks

Why must this rule my life
Engraved in stone so it stands
Then I realize that this thickness
is as small as a grain of sand

So back and forth I feel it bounce
Love, Sorrow, in and out
One always more sincere than the other
To let the pain go and watch Love sprout...

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Daffodils grow out the back of my head.
I wish they were purple tulips instead.
My job pays well, but I don’t make as much as Leek.
I lament this fact, ruining part of my week.
My family is good, but Kim’s seems better.
I spend my life grousing, jealous of my sister’s sweater.
Crazy I know, and yet here I sit, irritated more than a little bit.
That my brother’s having a better life. This griping I have to quit!...

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The animals took turns being leader of the band.
Today it was squirrel's turn, he marched onto our land.
The fox was pouting, for he said he never got a turn.
This made the moose mad, he did a slow burn.

They each need to be the leader, the tiny mouse said.
The bear stuck out his tongue, the fox turned all red.
I should be the permanent leader, hoot owl argues.
The moose got annoyed, and began clinking his shoes....

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I wanted a larger sombrero, the spoiled child said.
Weird since she had a ten-gallon hat on her head
That’s all you are getting, her mother said sternly.
But she kept grousing and griping, this child named Hernly.

Her grandmother said “Fine, I will take the hat as my own.”
Hernly had such a fit, she was soon all alone
Except for her old-school grandmother who had a flyswatter.
What are you doing? Asked the naïve spoiled granddaughter....

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Everyone has their unique life 
What direction are you taking 
What decisions are you making 
In this twenty-twenty time of crisis 
Remember how precious life is 
No more griping and complaining 
Does it really need explaining 
Just like that it comes to a halt 
Lock it in your memory vault 
As the world recovers 
What will you discover 
Are you the solution 
Or the pollution
Life.........................
It comes back 
To what YOU do!!!!!...

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This land of entitlement 
entertainment and enterprise 
lost burnt broken...despised 
skeletal structures reaching 
griping 
clutching 
scraping this infernal sky!

Arcane factories sit on horizons 
haunted like houses 
remains of Man, remains insane 
burning, cursing some 

American empirical waste, mad!
napalm fields where embers of pyres that rage 
across this facade of a holocaustic ape
an end to a so called… 


Mad American Empire!...

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Glitzy gypsy magic, gathering gooseberries, giggling giddily, 
Gallon buckets gladly gobbling up gooseberries in grandiose style
Gorgeous ghostly golden goblins, giving the greenlight,
For grandmother garden’s grabbing gooseberry gala.

Galloping green grasshoppers generating groans.
As grimy, grubby, grainy, grasshoppers gleefully land on arms.
Goblins grin at grandchildren’s grumpy, griping and grousing.
Which will stop the second they gulp Grandma’s gooseberry cobbler!...

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